


Blank Pages

by rabbitheartbeats



Series: Ink and Quill [13]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Adventuring In Eorzea Is Ridiculous, Bets and Wagers, Dangerous Dating, F/M, Final Fantasy XIV: Shadowbringers Spoilers, Flirting, M/M, No Beta We Die Like Ascians, Shenanigans, The Warrior of Light's life is ridiculous, word vomit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-30
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:42:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26202856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rabbitheartbeats/pseuds/rabbitheartbeats
Summary: Post 5.3 SpoilersAdventuring in Eorzea with the newest addition to the crew.
Relationships: G'raha Tia | Crystal Exarch/Warrior of Light, Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Series: Ink and Quill [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1465468
Comments: 11
Kudos: 57





	1. Chapter 1

Peals of laughter echo throughout the tunnels of U’ghamaro. An uncommon sound to be sure, and very much unlike the hardworking kobolds of the 51st Order. 

“This is hardly a laughing matter Kahkol!” Captain Loetstymm Fhrubryt yells at the petite Au Ra he has slung over his shoulder, who continues to laugh hysterically - not contributing much to covering their retreat.

“Ba Go is going to be so mad!” her laughter echoing throughout the tunnel, loud and clear despite the high pitched shrieking of the kobolds in pursuit of them. "They _sold his blasting sand_!" She hoots as if this is the funniest thing she has heard in ages.

The explosives that the kobold Ba Go had reluctantly handed the Xaela had proven to be utterly ineffective in causing the required cave-in for their escape. Loetstymm had been forced to scoop up his crew and run when they had found themselves staring awkwardly into a mine tunnel filled with significantly more industrious kobolds than those of the 789th.

He doesn’t know why he ever agreed to come along with her to Camp Overlook and the nearby kobold camp, much less why he agreed to involve himself in the 789th kobold order’s ridiculous plots. Kahkol was fond of the lazy buggers for some reason and had agreed to infiltrate the mines and sabotage a kobold overseer’s chance for promotion. Loetstymm failed to see how stealing lunches was going to make the 789th’s star shine brighter in the kobold world, but the Xaela he had taken under his wing near six years ago had agreed enthusiastically with the highly questionable kobold plan. 

“Not to worry Captain,” the passenger on Loetstymm’s other shoulder replies lightly. “I can deal with the lot of them.”

“ _Break_!” the Quills’ newest spellcaster intones, and Loetstymm presumes the spell does something to slow their pursuers down given the significant increase in kobold shrieking he can hear. 

“Excellent shot, if I do say so myself,” the inheritor of Allag declares somewhat smugly, unnervingly bright crimson eyes aglow in the dark of the mines.

“Not bad at all,” Moxi laughs lightly, and Loetstymm quite nearly drops them both when she leans over to kiss the Miqo’te on the cheek. 

He is right. Here. Literally carrying the two of them to safety! Gods, he doesn't know what sort of nonsense she got up to on the First, but Loetstymm is now certain that the Warrior of Light would be the death of him. Whether it be from her heart stopping, blasé reports of horrors and trials that are beyond imagination or from the stress ulcer that is only ever growing larger from the antics of the Scions of the Seventh bloody Dawn.

Loetstymm doesn’t really remember what G’raha Tia was like before he went into the Crystal Tower - had never really spoken with the scholarly Miqo’te that T’chev had _insisted_ their little lizard was smitten with. An eccentric scholar from Sharlaya, he had said. An oddball with a penchant for the dramatic and a boldness that led to the somewhat unkind description of the Miqo'te as a 'cocky brat'. High praise from T’chev, which was in and of itself a somewhat damning assessment of the redhead’s character in Loetstymm's opinion.

He’s not quite sure what to make of the man who has come _out_ of the Crystal Tower. It was clear as the sun that the man adored Kahkol and she had made it _abundantly_ clear that she was rather fond of him as well. Loetstymm’s letter of invitation to the Crystal Exarch months ago to join the Quills had been made half in jest. He hadn’t quite expected to actually _meet_ the man - it had been a sort of honorary role and membership as the Crystal Exarch was literally in another world with seemingly no means of returning to the Source. 

The man Loetstymm is starting to get to know is an exuberant one to be sure, and easily flustered when it came to the crew's little lizard but otherwise usually calm, collected and well-spoken. At least he had seemed that way until the Miqo'te got a whiff of the opportunity for adventure - or as Loetstymm liked to put it - trouble. 

He understands that the man whose very excited tail is currently smacking him in the face is some sort of combination of twenty-four (or twenty-nine?) year old G’raha Tia’s body, the centuries of memory of the Crystal Exarch who had lived in two worlds of ruin and the same soul. He got a thoroughly useless explanation from Kahkol, and the man himself had attempted to try and explain it, but Loetstymm had mostly gotten stuck on the whole ‘gouged chunks out of his arm which crystallized’ in order to fuse Allagan blood with white auracite and his stomach had refused to hear a word more.

The fact of the matter was that G’raha Tia was here on the Source and was now both newest member of both Scions of the Seventh Dawn and Loetstymm’s adventurer company.

Loetstymm’s eyes twitch towards the useless lizard had had picked up years ago who is now _giggling_ uncontrollably at her catboy's flustered face.

She turns a little, still snickering, silver-ringed eyes scanning the tunnels ahead of them.

"Make a left at the fork Cap'n." She instructs, her voice steadying somewhat. 

Having spent years of his life accompanying the famed Warrior of Light on many of her adventures and battles, Captain Loetstymm Fhrubryt firmly disregards any and all of Moxi Kahkol's directions. 

G'raha has apparently not received the memo that his beloved hero holds records in her ability to get horrendously lost anywhere and squawks at Loetstymm's casual disregard for her instructions.

"Left, Captain! Left!" He exclaims as Loetstymm barrels down the passageway on the right.

Loetstymm realizes his terrible mistake very shortly as the tunnel opens into a dead end, filled to the brim with bomb incubators.

It seems he had forgotten the number one rule of adventuring with Kahkol - you _always_ got lost at some point or other. Usually at the worst possible moment.

"Oh it was a right at the fork after all," Moxi exclaims in surprise.

"Wait, you _wanted_ us to corner ourselves in a room full of explosives?!" Loetstymm yells.

"We're not cornered," the scaly pipsqueak who has slain gods declares primly from her very dignified position of being slung like a sack of popotoes over her Captain’s shoulder. "Look up."

He turns his head up to see not much more than a stone ceiling, though their third member on this little expedition seems to have spotted what she has. Damn lizards and cats with their night vision or whatever. 

"Haha!" The Miqo'te laughs triumphantly, flinging himself down from Loetstymm's shoulders. "At your ready." The redheaded Miqo'te grins up at Loetstymm's little lizard, taking up a combat stance, his crystal staff at the ready.

Her gaze turns ridiculously fond and soft as she looks upon the man she had brought home from another shard of the star. G’raha Tia smiles back at her and Loetstymm feels like a particularly large, third-wheeling, green pack-chocobo. 

Except Loetstymm is Captain of the Free Company and by Llymlaen’s briny skirts he is the one who is supposed to be in charge.

“I’ll handle the landing,” Moxi chirps brightly before Loetstymm can even get a word out. And taking this statement as a cue, G’raha Tia unleashes a huge conflagration of aether into the room of _extremely flammable_ kobold bombs. 

He’s not exactly sure what happened shortly thereafter, because the next thing he knows is he's spluttering up for air and everything hurts. It was easy to figure out what _likely_ had occurred because Loetstymm Fhrubryt was not an idiot - though that could not exactly be said for the newest member of the crew. 

Why Kahkol thought causing an explosion large enough to launch the three of them into the ocean was a perfectly reasonable escape plan is yet another strike against the godsdamned Scions of the Seventh Dawn. He’s not sure just exactly what she got up to on the First, but she’s _clearly_ picked up some terrible habits. 

Why _G'raha_ had gone along with it was another question entirely! He was supposed to be - was allegedly - the _responsible_ one. He had run an entire godsdamned city!

The two idiots are laughing uproariously, thoroughly unperturbed by the fact that they’re in the middle of the ocean and that Loetstymm is glaring angrily at them both.

"What in the seven hells was that?!" Loetstymm demands.

"Yesui had told me before that there was a false ceiling in one of the bomb rooms,” G’raha explains. “A shoddy repair job that serves an infiltration point for the 789th when mischief strikes their fancy. I might have miscalculated the firepower required to launch the three of us through it. Without the crystal this body is ah, much lighter than I'm used to." The man smiles ruefully and Loetstymm can sort of see why Kahkol is head over heels for the redhead. G'raha Tia is very cute, with a boyish face and an earnest enthusiasm to his words that is somewhat endearing. 

Mollified by Graha's apologetic demeanor and expression, Loetstymm opens his mouth to speak, only for the once Crystal Exarch to continue talking.

"But what a ride that was!" The Miqo'te enthuses towards Kahkol. "I had heard of the kobolds enthusiasm for explosives, a trait they don’t share with the Mord of the First. If anything, I feel that Master Ghen Gen would be appalled."

"If you think the kobolds like bombs, you've not dealt with gobbiefolk whizz bangs and boomsticks,” Moxi Kahkol - idiot extraordinaire and most certainly a woman with a deathwish laughs brightly, and the excited gleam in both of these two idiots eyes has Loetstymm finding his voice.

“You are _not_ having the Illuminati throw bombs at the two of you,” Loetstymm shouts at the two of them, who are ignoring him to race to the shore - the last one there being a ‘rotten egg’.

Twelve preserve him, Loetstymm groans. T’chev could chaperone the two lovebirds on their next adventure.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This isn't T'chev's idea of a hot date. He's pretty sure it is -no one's- idea of a hot date.

T’chev is happier than he has ever been in a good long while now. The family he’s chosen for himself is healthy and safe, his love life is nothing short of amazing and it seems like for the first time in Twelve knew how long - Eorzea wasn’t imploding.

T’chev had had multiple plans on how he would reintroduce himself to the Seeker who had both broken and mended his little Xaela sister’s heart. Each and every one of those plans had to be tossed out the window and into the street, as the Warrior of Light had seen fit to return to Limsa unannounced with her redheaded prince charming in tow. Moxi had barged into the house alongside G’raha Tia and had been greeted with the scene of T’chev and Mitsu being _extremely_ naked with one another on the living room couch.

While T'chev had found himself an unintentional third party to some of _their_ bedroom antics via Echo visions, meeting your future brother-in-law naked was hardly a way to make a good first or second impression. The far more distressing and critical matter was Mitsu’s abject mortification at being caught in the buff. He was decently certain that he’d never be able to talk the Raen man into letting T’chev bend him over the coffee table again.

The Gryphon tribe man handled it rather well all things considered. He had kept his laughter or amusement entirely to himself, and had chosen his words expertly in soothing and reassuring Mitsu that he had seen _nothing_. 

That had earned the other Tia more than a few points with T’chev. 

“You holding up there G’raha?” he asks the other Miqo’te who has brought up his glowing aether shield to block a bullet from striking their chocobos.

“I’m fine,” the redhead declares, ears twitching with annoyance. “Where _are_ they hiding?” 

T’chev is not sure what is so fascinating about the abandoned Sharlayan colony, but G'raha had never been to Dravania and apparently having the goblin Illuminati take potshots at them is his sister’s idea of a hot date. 

If they wanted explosives thrown at them, T'chev was pretty certain that there was an attraction at the Gold Saucer that did that, and with significantly less risk of death. Should that not prove 'adventurous' enough for them, T'chev was pretty sure they could throw grenades at that idiot M'zhet in Gyr Abania.

“Probably up behind the rubble there,” T’chev points to the shadows and shrugs. “Mox has got them.”

G’raha’s face grows immensely concerned as he follows T’chev’s finger towards the Champion of Eorzea, standing alone and surrounded by angry goblins.

“Of all the reckless-!” the newest Scion of the Seventh Dawn exclaims before rushing forward, feet pounding as he charges across the grounds. T’chev feels the shift and smiles at the burst of aether G’raha Tia uses to launch himself rapidly - shield first - into the nearest goblin.

His royal Allagan highness is surprisingly likable. Remarkably so, as Cece had declared during the emergency company meeting they had held in Buscarron's Druthers a few days past- a bar that Mox was unlikely to wander into without them having ample warning. 

G’raha Tia loves their little lizard with every fibre of his being - the man had spent more than a century working to save her life. 

Approved! Cece had said slamming her tankard on the table.

He’d been more than willing to go to his grave for her - that counted for a lot. Approved, Randal had declared, an almost haunted look in his eyes as he downed his glass. 

He had worked hard on the First to ensure that Mox was comfortable, rested and as safe as she could be, Mally had said in favour of the scholar of Allag. Even if it was primarily by ignoring his own need for food and sleep, G’raha Tia had achieved the impossible and got Moxi Kahkol to eat three meals a day and sleep on a regular basis. A feat even _they_ had not managed to accomplish in nearly six-years of knowing the Au Ra. 

Approved, the conjurer said tossing her vote in.

Sela had glared at all of them as the motion passed on honouring G'raha Tia's membership as a part of the crew. 

T'chev liked the man. He was good for Mox. If they let Sela kill him she’d never speak with any of them ever again. 

Mox let him - no _insisted_ \- he call her _Yesui._ T’chev didn’t need the Echo to know the depths of her feelings for G’raha Tia with that simple fact.

The Scions of the Seventh Dawn and the rest of Eorzea might see her as some sort of invincible hero and weapon to throw at their enemies, but G'raha saw _her_. 

He saw the directionally challenged idiot from the Steppe who had never met someone she didn't _try_ to help and loves her more than anything - simply content to be at her side.

For that, T'chev would fight Eorzea's most terrifying Aliapoh for him.

The Keeper would probably never actually approve of G'raha - by virtue of him being a man, and a Seeker man at that - but if they could at least stop her from trying to incinerate him on sight, things would _probably_ be alright.

T'chev Tia, pirate turned adventurer spent the rest of the evening as unofficial spokesman for the once Crystal Exarch. 

G'raha Tia had been a decent man well before he locked himself in the tower, T'chev had supplied to the rest of the crew. Respectful of their lizard's boundaries despite being forced to share a tent during their time in Mor Dhona. Never touched her untowardly when adjusting the way she held her pen in their tutoring sessions, had kept his eyes on her face when speaking with her, gaze never straying downwards despite some questionable tops their lizard chose to wear on occasion.

That seemed to help smooth things over with Sela some. She wouldn't attempt to murder him on sight at least.

T'chev wisely chose not to mention that G'raha hadn't spent much time staring at Moxi's chest because his eyes had more often than not been glued to her ass as she dragged him about Mor Dhona all those years ago.

Presently, T’chev watches his sister’s knight charge to her not-quite-needed rescue. The thought counted. Not many would ever think to lend the _Warrior of Light_ aid.

The smile leaves his face when G’raha gets knocked to the ground by a dive-bombing Illuminati glider that the Miqo’te _should_ have seen and heard coming from malms away. What, by Llymlaen's soggy teats, had caused him to not even be paying the slightest bit of attention to - _oh_. 

T’chev suppresses snorts of laughter as he moves to make sure G'raha doesn't get brained by a goblin. Mox has finished the steps of her dance and the aether that she had coaxed out of the earth and air with her movements goes out in a blast that dispatches all of the goblins in a fifteen yalm radius. The few that escaped the initial pulse are promptly culled by the blades of her chakrams as she dashes to her fallen lover's side.

“Raha!” she cries out, rushing to help her poor dazed and concussed boy. 

"I'm, I'm alright," the redhead tries to assure her as he sits up, but that does not stop her from fussing over him.

T'chev slows his pace a touch as he approaches the two of them, G'raha Tia trying -and failing miserably - to fend off the little lizard's worries and concerns.

Serves her right, T’chev thinks with a vindictive sense of satisfaction as he hears his sister’s voice rise in volume as G’raha tries to dismiss her concerns about his health.

Wasn’t so much fun being the worried one now was it? He’s not sure if she realizes that G’raha sounds exactly like her whenever T’chev is checking her over for injuries - down to the petulant expression. The two of them were _made_ for eachother. 

When Moxi's concerns rise to a fever pitch and the threat of cutting short their little adventure comes up, T'chev takes pity on his fellow Tia and speaks up.

"Mox, the reason your boy got taken unawares was because he was too busy staring at yer ass."

He grins a little at how red the younger (older?) man turns.

"Really?" 

Gods. T'chev knows love makes people stupid - he himself is a shining example of that - but not _this_ stupid.

His scaly little sister is _touched_ that her ass is apparently a liability on the battlefield. She actually looks a little bashful as she blushes prettily at G'raha's nervous cough - an admission of guilt in all but words.

"I uh….haven't seen you dance in some time and …" G'raha stammers looking set to burst into flames, looking anywhere but at Moxi Kahkol's face. "I'd forgotten how beautiful you are when you dance."

T'chev now understands why Loetstymm foisted off chaperone duty on him. With him and Keimbryda on their third or fourth split this year, there was no way Greenie could deal with being the largest third wheel to the sappiest couple in all of Eorzea.

“Well, we’re almost to Idyllshire,” T’chev laughs, reminding the lovebirds of his presence. “Khloe’s been eagerly awaiting your next story. Though I reckon she and T’kebbe might be more interested in your boy’s presence than anything. Twenty gil says they want to hear about how you two met.”

Mox looks at him skeptically. 

“Don’t think Khloe has much of a taste for love stories. The bloodier the battle, the more excited she is. Twenty-five says she won’t notice Raha exists.” the Xaela declares confidently, to her Allagan Prince's indignant squawk.

“Zhloe’s been asking for more books for the kids at the Hard Place. They've been asking for some _older_ reading material." T'chev counters, wiggling his ears to indicate what sorts of books they were asking for. "Thirty on them asking for the dirty details."

"Khloe is thirteen summers or thereabouts, I'll take that bet!" Moxi says, sounding almost aghast at the prospect of a young teenaged Miqo'te on the brink of puberty showing an interest in romance.

T'chev notes a glimmer of something that might just be mischief in G'raha's astonishingly bright eyes. 

"Thirteen summers you say?" The redheaded Tia cuts in on the betting. "Fifty gil says the girls will want the love story."

The look of outrage on T’chev’s scaly little sister's face is _priceless_ and her indignant ‘ _Raha!_ ’ has G’raha and T’chev exchanging smiles and promptly bursting into laughter.

He really does like G'raha Tia, T'chev smiles ruefully as the two idiots begin to bicker amongst themselves.

Apparently G'raha had raised a Viera woman from girlhood on the First and was declaring himself an authority on the interests of young women. 

Being a relatively young woman herself - though it had been more than a decade since Mox had been Khloe's age - the Warrior of Light considers herself the better authority.

It is an utterly stupid argument that they're having and the two of them look like they couldn't be more thrilled to be having it.

They make a good pair, he laughs as he leaves them alone to go check on the actual birds they had left on the other side of the ruins.

He will bet a thousand gil that he'll come back to them kissing. T’chev and Randal have an ongoing bet on what the two of them will be announcing first - their marriage or their first child. 

T’chev Tia glances back at where he left the two of them alone. He could take the long way back. Any children the two of them have were sure to be tooth-rottingly adorable, and the winnings from the bet would go a long way in spoiling them _rotten_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When the three of them show up in Idyllshire and G'raha is mostly unsuccessful in hiding the hickeys the Warrior of Light left on him, T'chev is no longer allowed to be their chaperone.
> 
> In terms of the bet on what the Miqittens wanted to hear about, Khloe didn't notice G'raha's presence at all, and T'kebbe wanted to know if he was a fairy tale princess. So technically Moxi won the bet.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If you want to be the Warrior of Light's lover, you have got to get in with her chocobo & G'raha's first bar fight.

G'raha Tia has never been so happy to see an aetheryte in his life.

While he has yet to tire of the thrill of being at his hero's side, accompanying her on her travels and adventures throughout Eorzea, his back has begun to sorely miss an actual bed.

While there was an undeniable romance in spending a night with one's beloved on a bed of grass under a blanket of stars, it wasn't exactly comfortable. It also led to finding sticks, leaves and dirt in all sorts of inconvenient places.

While both of them were fully capable of roughing it for weeks on end, there was no denying that they had begun yearning for some of the comforts of civilization. Namely a warm bath, a soft mattress and some Twelve blessed privacy.

"Ho adventurers!" A chocobokeep calls out at their approach as they pass into Ala Ghiri. "If you're lookin' for a room for the night, you'd best try your luck at Anskar's!"

"Thank you," Yesui chirps back, making an odd trilling noise in her throat, which has the birds perking up in her direction and the chocobokeep impressed. G’raha had not known that chocobo whisperer was part of his hero’s many talents, though he does recall the way Bethric had waxed poetic about how she assisted with the amaro of the Crystarium.

Having the man and his birds attention, she begins to ask about how the town of Ala Ghiri has been faring since she had last been.

"Kweh!" Dex squawks indignantly at his beloved rider. How _dare_ she not be paying attention to him, chatting up and petting other birds while he carries her luggage about! Yesui's ever faithful and particularly moody chocobo begins to stamp his feet, all the signs of an oncoming chocobo temper tantrum. 

G’raha only vaguely remembered Dex from before he went into the Tower. He honestly hadn’t thought much of the bird at that point, but after weeks spent travelling with Yesui and her chocobo, he has found that he had been absolutely _spoiled_ on the First in the bird's absence.

The chocobo is Yesui's nigh inseparable and faithful companion, and her long absences from Eorzea has made the bird _clingy_ . The blue-feathered menace has decided that he _hates_ G’raha, and the Warrior of Light and Darkness is completely and utterly blind to the bird’s faults.

Her feathery friend is merely shy around strangers. He’ll get used to you, she said.

Shy was absolutely not the word G'raha would use to describe her chocobo. The bird was a menace - tugging at his hair, constantly trying to bite his fingers off - all allegedly typical chocobo behaviour Yesui claimed. Dex likes him! She insists. 

Given that the bird is constantly trying to kill him every time Yesui's back is turned, G'raha would beg to differ.

If G'raha had known that his competition for his lady's affections was going to be a six-fulm tall bird, he would have prepared accordingly. 

He has experience with animals, he could win over his beloved's chocobo. If he doesn't give into his baser instincts and roasts the damn bird over a spit, or it kills him first.

"There there," he says soothingly, tentatively petting the blue-feathered monster's neck. Given that his gesture isn't immediately met with beak and claw, he will count this as a success.

The bird is still staring forlornly at Yesui's back who continues to chat with the chocobokeep about his work, his birds, the town, asking after any news from Ala Mhigo and the Garlean situation. She compliments the keep's birds and even calls one particularly fine specimen of a Belah'dian jennet handsome, much to Dex’s dismay.

The blue-feathered chocobo lets out a sad, heartbroken kweh and G'raha decides to press his advantage.

"It's all right Dex," he whispers to the bird, pulling out the chocobo's favoured snack of Faerie Apples from his satchel. "You're the best and handsomest bird. She'd never replace you."

"Kwehhh" the loyal chocobo whistles mournfully, snapping up the apple before turning big dark limpid eyes on him. A gentle nudge of his beak against the Miqo'te's hand for more. Quite the change in demeanor from this morning, when the bird had headbutted him in the back in the hopes of having him fall into the campfire and only succeeded in having G'raha spill his morning tea.

"Oh Dex, you know how Yesui feels about snacks before supper. But such a handsome and good bird deserves a treat, don't you think?" he winks conspiratorially at the chocobo promptly producing a Doman plum from his pocket to Dex's utter joy.

"Raha, you'll spoil him!" Yesui scolds him, turning around at her chocobo's triumphant chirp. 

"He deserves it," G'raha protests lightly. "He was such a _good bird_ today, weren't you Dex?" He coos, scratching under the chocobo's chin. Dex makes a low _wark_ of delight and shakes his feathers happily as he swallows the sweet treat down. "Didn't bite me at all, did you? Good bird!" 

He watches her from the corner of his eye as he shamelessly bribes her chocobo for a few moments. 

"Don't blame me if he rips all of your pockets tomorrow looking for treats," she sniffs, struggling to stifle her smile. Gods, his Warrior is _adorable._

The chocobokeep chuckles at the two of them.

"Anskar's is on the left, first street north of the main road. Tell'im E'dheri sent you and he _should_ give you and your two boys a discount."

"Thank you!" 

G'raha nods at his fellow Miqo'te who gives him a bright grin and a thumbs up as he, his beloved and her blue chocobo head for the aetheryte and further into town.

Ala Ghiri still bears the scars of Garlean occupation, but it is recovering. Street vendors have set up their wares and call out to the two of them as they pass. What is for sale is of questionable quality, and their displays are somewhat meagre, but there is a joy in the air and a sense of hope as merchants shout their afternoon deals. 

It takes a little longer than expected to find the street Anskar's Auberge is located - mostly due to Yesui confusing west and north - but they find the establishment with G’raha’s much better sense of direction.

The once Crystal Exarch is shooed away to the chocobo stables with Dex, as Yesui negotiates their stay at the inn.

Displeased by G'raha's continued presence and his rider's absence, Dex voices his dissatisfaction with angry warks and an attempt at a kick to G'raha's knees.

"Now I'll have none of that," G'raha reprimands the bird with a quick rap on the beak. "Yesui says you're the best and sweetest boy, so prove it."

_"KWEH!"_

The indignant squawk at the mere suggestion that Dex might not be the best boy in Eorzea is met with G'raha's best and most indifferent stare. 

The 'what would Yesui think?' method seems to work best so far, as the six-fulm tall chocobo acquiesces to G'raha leading him into the pen, relieving him of his saddle and Yesui's pack. He even submits to G'raha giving him a quick rubdown and cursory grooming, albeit with much disgruntled muttering from the bird.

It had been impressed upon G'raha multiple times by the Zun that it was always important to reinforce and reward good behaviours, so G'raha offers the bird a second Doman plum, which is eagerly accepted and scarfed down in seconds to looks of supreme envy from the other birds in the stable.

"Ah, good!" The Warrior of Light's smile is radiant as she strides in. "Captain says he and the others will meet up with us here in a few bells. Job is runnin’ longer than they thought." 

Dex immediately pushes past G’raha to shove his head into Yesui’s arms, chirping and trilling happily.

“Awww, look how handsome you are Dex! Wasn’t it nice of G'raha to clean you up so nicely?” she coos at the bird, pressing a quick kiss to the chocobo’s beak. “Did you thank him for the snacks too?”

“Kweh.” the chocobo likely lies through his beak as he basks in Yesui’s affections. 

"Aww who's a good boy? You are! Yes you are!" 

G’raha is not jealous of a chocobo. He is not. Frustrated with it, yes. But certainly not jealous of how she cuddles the bird, lavishing affection and praise on the smug bastard.

“Yesui, might we not head to our room and freshen up some as well? I’m not sure about you, but I could use a bath." He says and the way her eyes light up in delight and mischief has his heart racing.

"Hmmm, you always have the best ideas, Raha." She laughs, bright and cheerful as she releases her chocobo. "Be a good boy Dex," she tells the bird before grabbing G'raha's hand and pulling him out of the chocobo stables.

The look the bird gives him is nothing short of _murderous_ and G'raha has to fight very hard to keep from giving the chocobo a triumphant grin. He doesn't want to undo all of the work he's done today.

* * *

The rooms of Anskar's Auberge are not particularly elaborate, but the sheets are clean and the bath large enough for two, so G'raha will be sure to give the innkeep his compliments.

Two baths and a fresh set of clothing later, the two of them make their way down to the inn's common room to a scene of hysteria and bedlam. 

A waitress lies in the ruins of a meal, limbs contorted in a way that all but guaranteed something broken.

Yesui is rushing forward, vaulting over the railing and darting towards the injured woman, while G'raha shouts for the growing crowd to make way.

"What in the seven hells are you supposed to be?!" A large Highlander man steps in front of them, blocking their way. The man points at Yesui. "What _are you?_ Some sort of voidsent?"

"She's a healer," G'raha snarls, putting himself between them and smacking the man's hand sharply. "Now out of the way!" The rude man is promptly dragged aside by another waitress and Yesui's path to the injured woman is unobstructed.

G'raha allows himself to give the rude Highlander a disdainful glare before promptly following after his hero.

Yesui is speaking quietly with the wounded woman and getting the story, straightforward as it is. The Miqo'te waitress, M'keiri, had been carrying table seven's many orders of ale and hot stew when she had probably slipped on something and fell. The tray had landed on her, dousing her body in burning hot stew.

"Must have landed badly," the woman gasps weakly, whimpering as Yesui treats the burns on her chest and arms.

G'raha marvels somewhat at his beloved's skill with the astrological arts - most any and all wounds that she treated would be as if they had never happened. A sobering thought given the scars Yesui's body _does_ carry, but that is not their present concern, so G'raha turns his attention to the woman's legs. Though hidden by her long skirt and apron, it is plain to see given the way her left foot and leg are splayed that M'keiri has most definitely broken something. 

"Your leg is _very_ broken. We'll have to set it first afore we use any magic," he informs the woman grimly.

"It's going to hurt. A lot. But if it is to heal properly, it must be done." He gives the woman his gentlest expression, and pretends her flinch was from the pain of her wounds and not from meeting his Allagan red eyes. 

"My companion is an exceptional healer, but if you would rather a chirurgeon you know perform the procedure, we can send word to them for you."

"Haven't had a healer in Ala Ghiri since the Garleans. And I don't know them Resistance medics from a dark scale 'venturer one. Do it."

"Do you have any of Chessamile's tonics?" He asks the Warrior of Darkness. "They should help reduce her pain some."

She shakes her head. "No. I left them with her. You didn't need them anymore."

Ah. Right. Well then. He grabs hold of M'keiri's hands, and smiles in what he hopes is a reassuring manner. Hardly the first time he has served as the punching bag of a screaming patient. His hand had been crystal at the time though.

"S'all right. We Ala Ghiri folk are tough." The waitress bares her teeth in an attempt at a smile. 

"Very well then."

The crowd winces in sympathy as M'keiri shrieks in pain, crushing G'raha's hand in a vise-like grip as Yesui puts the woman's leg back in place and floods the woman's body with curative magicks to mend her bones.

The whole process takes mayhaps a minute in total, and G'raha can quite happily say that his hand is still intact.

"There. Good as new," Yesui declares, rising to her feet and hauling her pale and sweaty patient to her flabbergasted and wobbly feet. "Hmmm. Give me a moment to fetch my pack and I can fix your shoes."

Yesui is certainly receiving a lot of astonished looks. The woman's burns and leg look as if naught has happened to them, her face and skin unblemished. Only the stains on the woman's dress and apron, and the utter ruin of table seven's drinks and food on the floor remain to serve as proof of the incident.

G'raha has barely managed to shake out the kinks in his bruised hands when he is instantly pulled aside by a tall Ala Mhigan that, given the apron and cooking pan in hand, he presumes is the proprietor of the inn.

Though he is no longer Exarch or de facto leader of a city, some habits are hard to break as he listens with a patient expression to the effusive praise and thanks. 

"While I would love to accept your thanks and offers of compensation my good man, the one you should be thanking is my companion." he says when the man finishes speaking.

"Ah, your bodyguard, sir scholar?"

"B-bodyguard?" G'raha splutters before registering what the man called him. Right. The Archon tattoos on his neck.

The Crystal Tower had swallowed those up relatively early on the First. A blessing he had not considered until he had received a reminder with his botched summoning of Thancred. He's not sure how he could have pretended to _not_ be G'raha Tia when his neck tattoos marked him as a native of the Source and a student of Sharlaya at that.

"She's a very dear friend of mine. We're headed to Ala Mhigo to meet with a friend and colleague." he corrects the man.

"Hmmm." The man says, brows raised and a somewhat judging look on his face. 

While he would much rather be introducing himself as Yesui's betrothed -or better yet, her _husband_ \- the fact of the matter was that for all the plenty and technology the Source could boast over Norvrandt, Eorzea was incredibly _backwards_ at times. 

Perhaps it was due to how fleeting and fragile life was on the First in the wake of the Flood, the people of Norvrandt held no such reservations about relations between races. As Exarch, G'raha had actually officiated many a wedding between citizens of any and all races in the Crystarium. 

They love one another. What did it matter that she was an Au Ra and he Miqo'te?

"G'raha~" he hears his name called by a familiar and dear voice, and he turns to be assailed with the sight of a bosom he is particularly well acquainted with..

Anskar's Auberge had survived the Garlean occupation and their subsequent ousting mostly unmolested by virtue of two things. Anskar's incredible buckler stew and adopting the dirndl as a uniform for the waitstaff.

"How does it look on me?" The silver-haired Au Ra asks, twirling in place to show off the long skirts and apron, which while very nice, are not G'raha Tia's point of interest.

The blouse and corset of the dirndl - allegedly an outfit from the northern reaches of Ilsabard - are designed to bring focus and emphasize the wearer's chest, and while Yesui would never be described as particularly buxom, the outfit is making it very hard not to stare. G'raha's mouth runs dry and his tongue moves over parched lips as his eyes trace the pattern of dark blue scales that cover her neck and collarbones that are practically instructing him to look directly at her cleavage.

" _Breastiful_ \- I mean beautiful!" He says to the concerted laughter of the female waitstaff who have gathered, as he hurriedly returns his gaze to her face, ears fluttering in embarrassment. "Where did you get this and… why are you wearing it?" He says with no small amount of dread, as he crosses his arms in an attempt at looking stern but more to keep himself and his hands from reaching out and _tugging_ at her blouse. 

"Clothes got dirty and M'keiri ain't in any shape to work, not soon after a fall like that. I can fix skin and bones, but she banged her head pretty hard going down. She needs rest. Their uniforms are cute, so I said if she lets me keep one of these, I'll work her shift for her."

"My friend, I don't think that's a-" G'raha starts, but she is beaming with delight at her new dress. Loathe as he is to deny her anything her heart desires, he does not think the Captain would approve of her playing waitress. 

"Wouldn't be my first time servin' drinks. Wasn't always a 'venturer G'raha!" She grins at him. 

Well when she looks at him like that, he can do little more than shrug and turn to a flabbergasted Anskar.

"I don't suppose this could serve as her compensation?"

The Ala Mhigan looks incredibly confused.

"Really? That's what you want?" he asks incredulously, to which the Champion of Eorzea does another little twirl, smiling at the way the skirts flutter and spin, before nodding.

“She’s not happy unless she’s helping someone,” G’raha laughs ruefully as he watches Yesui promptly be adopted by Anskar’s waitresses and rushed off into the kitchen. “And this is hardly the oddest thing she’s done for strange rewards.”

Anskar watches with him as the Champion of Eorzea handles the dinner crowd, bussing tables and serving drinks like she had worked at his restaurant for years rather than seconds.

“Tell you what, your girl can work _a bell_ o' M'keiri's shift and I'll feed the both of ya the best buckler stew in all Gyr Abania. I won’t be acceptin’ a gil from either of you.” the man declares. "Drinks are on the house for this one and his lady." Anskar informs the bartender - a skinny Midlander man who nods dutifully.

G'raha finds himself ushered into a seat at the bar and given a bottle of Lominsan Red. It tastes a lot better than he remembers, and time passes in a bit of a blur as he indulges in idle chit chat with the bartender.

"So where abouts does a scholar meet a 'venturer like that?" The barkeep asks at some point, nodding at the silver-haired Auri woman who navigates the chaos of the tavern’s evening rush with a dancer’s grace, weaving in and out from the kitchens to the tables. In fact G’raha is rather certain he’s seen her wield her chakrams in that particular maneuver, as she tosses her tray up into the air before spinning to catch, right and return a falling waitress and platter to steadiness, before retrieving her own from the air with a flourish to laughter and applause. 

"He hires one and makes a complete and utter fool of himself in the process," G'raha laughs good naturedly. His body feels _incredibly_ light and bubbly. He glances at his nearly empty cup, which is promptly refilled for him - he doesn't remember alcohol having this much of an effect on him. It must be the sound of his dearly beloved adventurer's laughter that has him feeling like this. "Gods, it's a miracle she didn't kill me the first time we met."

“How much?” a vaguely familiar and unpleasant sounding voice grunts on G’raha’s left. 

“Beg pardon?” G’raha says, voice clipped and cold as he turns to see the brutish Highlander man who had called his adorable Yesui a voidsent. Au Ra were not exactly common in Gyr Abania, but Ala Ghiri was a trade hub to the Far East. He expected better.

“How much for the scaly wench? I've got some aches that I need soothed, if ya know what I mean!" the man grins at him- his face a disgusting thing as he eyes the Warrior of Light's backside. “I’ve never had a lizard before! Does she have scales down-”

"I would thank you to keep your thoughts about my friend respectful," G'raha growls out through bared teeth as he stands up from his seat.

The Highlander man gives G'raha a dismissive lookover.

G'raha is not a tall man - shorter than average for his race, and blessed or cursed with a 'pretty' face. He does not cut the most imposing or intimidating figure, but he has held his own against Vauthry and two of the Unsundered, and he will not let this man debase his beloved hero with his vile and filthy thoughts.

_" --------"_

G'raha does not quite recall exactly what the man said, only that the foul words were promptly drowned out by the sound of blood rushing in his ears and more than half the bar standing up in outrage - particularly the female half.

The fireball is admittedly larger than what he would have used had he been completely sober, but it serves its purpose in silencing the filth coming from the man's mouth. G'raha's fist connecting with the lout's jaw does a better job and is a thousand times more satisfying.

He could blame the wine for his actions - without the Tower, alcohol did affect him more strongly - but that would be a lie. He has always held his drink well, even back in his student days and he has not had _nearly_ enough to make him the slightest bit tipsy.

That this pitiful excuse of a man _dared_ to disparage the Warrior of Light - guiding star and the love of G’raha Tia’s life - utterly unforgivable.

G’raha does not recall ever being so personally _angry_ with someone in his ridiculously long life. His heart and throat burning with an all-consuming rage that might very well be on par with Nidhogg's own.

"Alright. Tha's enough Exarch," a vaguely familiar Limsan drawl says and G'raha suddenly finds his fist unable to make contact with his target’s face.

An almost feral sounding snarl makes it past his lips as he whirls around to see T'chev Tia smiling widely at him. The rogue's hands wrapped firmly around his arm.

The fight instantly goes out of G’raha at the sight of the blond Miqo’te, and he lets the First Mate of the Quills pull him off of the man he had been pummeling. 

“Shows over, back to your own business,” he hears the Captain’s booming voice declare, and the heavy steps of the Sea Wolf as he stomps about, likely dispersing the crowd. 

“When did you all get here?” G’raha asks of the Quills, ears drooping in embarrassment as he looks about. 

“About the time you threw a fireball at our _dear_ old friend Radbod?” Randal supplies, prodding one of the three men on the tavern floor with an armoured boot. “Dunno what he might have said or done, but he definitely deserved it.”

G’raha’s not sure who these other two men are, presumably this 'Radbod’s' friends. He supposes he has T’chev and Randal to thank for dealing with them. The Quill’s designated airship repairman and paladin looks over G'raha's victims in a somewhat rough manner, given the whimpers and groans of pain coming from them.

“I’m not sure if I’m mad or glad you didn’t kill him,” the Ishgardian sighs dejectedly before glancing down at G’raha’s fists. "Remind me to show you a few tricks you can use in the next barfight you're in. Your fists are not swords, and you don’t have a shield in your off hand. You’re leaving yourself too open after each blow. Maybe we can get Mally to give you some pointers. Kahkol could probably also teach you some of the finer bits of pugilism, but she's _garbage_ at explaining anything."

“Is Yesui alright?” G’raha asks, eyes scanning the crowd for a familiar head of silver hair.

“Oh she’s fiine,” T’chev laughs. “Cap’s giving her a scolding.”

"For what?" G'raha was the one who had gotten into a fight. Why would Yesui be the one to be reprimanded?

He hears them before he sees them. Yesui and the Captain shouting at one another, arms waving about dramatically while Anskar and his staff stare on in horror as the tiny silver-haired Xaela argues with a Sea Wolf who is quite literally twice her size.

“What part of _‘don’t get into trouble’_ did you not understand?!” Captain Fhrubryt shouts at the young woman who has slain gods and liberated nations.

"I din't do anything!" The Warrior of Light declares, glaring petulantly up at the captain.

"Don't give me that shite Kahkol! I gave you _one job. One job!_ We let you go off on your own for _a week_ and you’re dressin’ like a godsdamned harlot again!" the Captain booms to which Randal groans miserably.

"Halone's frozen tits, he went there...."

"That sorta talk is exactly why Keimbryda dumped you!" Yesui shouts back and both Hyur and Miqo'te turn astonishingly pale.

"Shite. I’m getting Cee," the red-headed paladin declares before rushing towards the door.

"I'll grab Mitsu!" T'chev says, dashing off to find his Raen lover, though to G’raha’s eyes it looks very much like the man is running for his life. 

At somewhat of a loss, G'raha stares after the two hastily departed adventurers before deciding that the brewing storm between Yesui and the Captain needs to stop. 

"Enough." He says firmly, his tone not at all different than the one he had used as Exarch, as he seamlessly steps between the two of them.

“Stay out of this G’raha,” Loetstymm Fhrubryt rumbles at him. G’raha instinctively grabs a hold of Yesui’s wrist and keeps a firm hand on her before she can lunge at the man who was essentially her father in all but blood. 

“I think not,” he says, turning his stern gaze up towards the ridiculously tall Roegadyn. “Neither of your comments to one another were appropriate in the slightest. We've caused Master Anskar no small amount of trouble this evening, so why don't we move this conversation somewhere else." 

Both adventurers open their mouths to likely protest, but he glares at both of them. 

"Elsewhere. Now."

* * *

When Cece and the other Quills make their way to Anskar’s Auberge - no small amount of them dragging their feet in reluctance to be the unlucky soul nominated to put themselves between the Warrior of Light and the Captain - they find the two senior members being lectured loudly in the chocobo stables by their newest.

T’chev lasts about five seconds before erupting into cacophonous laughter that Mitsu tries - and fails - to stifle. The noise does little to stop G’raha’s rant, though it does attract Dex’s attention, who begins to stamp and shake his feathers, yelling for Cece to intervene.

" _He's being mean!"_ The pale blue chocobo screeches at Cece. " _Make him go away!"_

Dex's dislike of G'raha is well known to the Lalafell, blessed by Hydaelyn with the gift of ears that could hear the words of fowl. The stupid bird would complain loudly to any and all who would listen about how _his_ Xaela wasn't paying attention to him. It had been bad enough dealing with the brat when Moxi had not brought him with her to Othard the first time, but now after leaving him in Cece's care for nearly a year only to return attached at the hip to G'raha Tia, well the damn chocobo had practically become a squalling babe.

Cece did not _deal_ with babies.

“I said _quiet_!” G’raha snaps at the bird, which has the chocobo and the rest of the Quills staring in shock at the usually mild-mannered Miqo’te. “The two of you should be ashamed of yourselves! Captain, Yesui is a grown woman and is fully capable of selecting her own wardrobe. Furthermore, that dress is the inn uniform - you’ve insulted every good man and woman who works there. When we go back inside, I expect you to give the staff your full apologies.” 

“I understand,” the Captain mumbles.

“I didn’t hear you.”

“I said: Understood!” Loetstymm groans from his seat on the floor, suitably chastised for his likely deplorable behaviour. Had G’raha not so succinctly outlined the Captain’s transgressions, Cece might have to sock the big oaf in the face.

“Good.” The red-headed Miqo’te nods before turning his attention to Moxi, who is seated next to the Captain.

“Yesui.” he says the Warrior of Light's real name as easily as breathing.

“I shouldn’t have said that,” she tells the stable floor.

“I’m not the one you should be saying that to.” G’raha says patiently. “Though if we are talking about apologies, I do believe that I am still owed one, no two, definitely two nights of-”

“Not in front of the Cap’n!” the Xaela hisses urgently, which sends T’chev into further hysterics and Mitsu lets out a bark of laughter as well, which finally draws the three idiots' attentions, though G’raha is not to be deterred from the task he has set before himself it seems.

“Well if you’re not going to apologize to the appropriate person, I may just have to -” he says, his ears and tail swaying with mirth. 

“I’m sorry Cap. I didn’t mean to bring up - what I brought up,” Moxi stammers out in a rush, speaking loudly to drown out whatever G’raha was about to say. “It was uncalled fer and I was wrong to say it.”

“Apology accepted. And I’m sorry for callin’ you a harlot.” Loetstymm says patting their little lizard on the head. “But what’s this about you owing G’raha-” 

“ _Wark!!_!” “Nothing!”

Both Xaela and her chocobo squawk together, which sends T’chev toppling to the ground with mirth, saved only by Mitsu catching him in his stupidly long Raen arms. 

"Cap if you really wanna know-" T'chev starts, as he steps forward only to be silenced by Cece not so subtly stepping on his toes. 

Cece does not know, nor does she _want_ to know what the Warrior of Light and G'raha do or not do when they're alone together.

"Alright now that this nonsense is all sorted out, can we eat? I'm starving." Cece calls out, pointedly ignoring the growing cacophony erupting from the chocobo pens.

Loetstymm pulls himself up and off of the floor, looming over G'raha who is very much _not_ intimidated in the slightest. The man from the Crystal Tower smiles brightly at Cece.

"Of course. Master Anskar did offer Yesui and I the _best_ buckler stew in Gyr Abania as compensation for our help earlier this evening. I'm certain we can convince him to serve up a few more portions for all of us."

Cece yanks on T'chev's tail to keep him from laughing at the Captain's conflicted expression, which earns her a withering glare from both the blond catboy and his lizard man. 

As funny as it was, if any of them wanted to eat good food tonight, the Quills’ First Mate needed to shut his gob. 

On one hand, there was Greenie's overprotective and somewhat old fashioned opinions on relationships and how they ought to progress between a young man and woman, on the other - free food.

The Quills were never quite hurting for gil, but with the way Randal and the Captain drank, it was often a concern and feeding the crew was occasionally an issue with the way their Auri crew members and Sela scarfed down meals. At least Moxi wasn't picky, but given her poor habit of going days without eating when she went about unsupervised, her body seemed to compensate by having gifted her the ability to inhale vast quantities of food and rapidly convert it into aether - and a soul as dense as hers needed quite a bit of aether.

While the Xaela would be perfectly happy to consume an unbalanced and unhealthy diet that consisted solely of boiled eggs or raisins, the rest of the crew would certainly not be. 

G’raha was good for her in this way. Her boy had awakened her culinarian spirit and the lizard was determined to shove as many and varied dishes as she could into her Allagan prince’s stomach - and the boy could _eat_. 

His decision made Loetstymm motions for the company to exit the stables. When it came down to the wellbeing of his crew against his personal opinions, their well being would always win out. A good hot meal was always welcome in Cece's books - a free one was even better.

“So what was the whole commotion about anyway?” Mitsu asks their little lizard as the Captain opens the door to the inn.

“Oh, some drunkard called me a cheap whore and G’raha punched him in the face for it,” Kahkol says dismissively as she slides her hand into her boyfriend’s own, rubbing a horn affectionately against his shoulder.

“ _What_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They re-enter Anskar's Auberge to find Sela attempting to set Radbod on fire with Mally restraining her. Sela spills the beans on Moxi's name - and Anskar just about faints upon hearing that the _Liberator of Ala Mhigo_ is staying at his inn - the Champion of Eorzea was waiting tables at his inn.   
> The Quills eat for free of course - but Moxi insists on leaving an insanely large tip in the form of a piece of Allagan platinum.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a boys night out with the Quills and (some) Scions. They spend their time talking about important things. Girls.

The Seventh Heaven, as a rule, is one of the busiest establishments in all of Mor Dhona. As the best tavern in a town full of adventurers, loud conversations of questionable content were the usual, and the boisterous air was one of the main draws of the building. That it was also a base of operations for the Scions of the Seventh Dawn was yet another point of interest, in that it was not uncommon to sometimes spy the Warrior of Light coming and going from the premises. One would expect that most dialogs would be lost as all kept to their own business, but for today only it seems that most patrons this evening are doing their best to keep their words to a low murmur, as all strain to hear wisps of conversation from the corner table where an eclectic mix of adventurers sit.

The ridiculously large Roegadyn with his equally ludicrous battle axe takes up a good portion of the corner and glowers at anyone not subtle enough to keep their eyes averted. The armoured Hyur, blond Miqo'te and the freakishly tall Raen further add to the absurdity of that particular section of the tavern.

Those who have been around Mor Dhona a little longer know that the real one to watch out for is the laughing Miqo’te who has a bit of a reputation for making people _extremely sorry_ for crossing him.

While the men of the Quills having a little get together in a tavern is hardly the most exciting thing to happen in the Seventh Heaven, the fact that they have Alphinaud Leveilleur and the red-headed scholar from Sharlaya that no one had seen hide or hair of for five years at their table _is_. 

There had been a bit of a thing a few moons ago that had brought G’raha Tia’s name back to Mor Dhona. The Sons of Saint Coinach and Tataru had begun selling mammets in his likeness in order to fund a new expedition to the base of the Crystal Tower. 

It had been an odd choice. The expedition into the Syrcus trench was a costly one, and no matter how much both the Ironworks and the Sons were indebted to the Warrior of Light, excavation equipment and experts in Allagan archaeology were not cheap. Why they had picked an admittedly cute Miqo’te boy as a model was a bit odd, what with the Scions of the Seventh Dawn having exclusive rights to the Warrior of Light’s likeness in mammet form. Then again, the Scions were a little notorious in merchandising circles for restricting dissemination of the Champion of Eorzea’s appearance. 

That hadn’t stopped the G’raha Tia mammets from selling like hot cakes, what with how the Warrior of Light proudly touted the clockwork Miqo’te across Eorzea and Othard. 

The man himself does not quite resemble the mammet - both his eyes are that shockingly bright hue of red for one - and for those who recalled the scholar, looks like he has not aged a day in the past five years. He seems to have traded away his bow for a staff, and if rumour has it right he speaks with Scions as an old friend, and the Warrior of Light as something _more_ than that.

Not that anyone had managed to pry the details from Tataru, much to the Harbor Herald, Raven and Mythril Eye’s displeasure. 

This was not at all how Alphinaud thought he would be spending his evening. Barred from any particularly strenuous activity by Krile, the Scions of the Seventh Dawn had found themselves unfortunately confined to Revenant’s Toll for their convalescence. Their bodies, lacking the stasis inducing technologies of Ancient Allag, were significantly much weaker after nearly a year of immobility than G’raha’s five. It could have been much worse, had Krile not worked tirelessly to keep them as healthy as she could. Alphinaud had hoped to spend this evening dabbling in his artistic hobbies. Portraits were his specialty, but Lady Chai had expressed interest in a few of his landscape sketches and - well, he knew Moxi would be more than happy to deliver any gifts he wished to send. 

His plans thusly set, he had barely made it out the door to the Rising Stones when he had been accosted and practically abducted into dinner with the Warrior of Light’s adventuring Free Company.

“I’ll admit, you weren’t my first choice of Leveilleur,” Loetstymm Fhrubryt says. “But T’chev wouldn’t shut up about bias and makin' this a 'boys night out' and neither Thancred or Urianger were available, so you’ll have to do.”

“Thank you,” Alphinaud remarks drily. His sarcastic tone eliciting laughter from Mitsutake Yumishi. 

“Come now,” the Raen bard chuckles as a waiter places platters of food upon their table. “Are we not all friends?”

“Speak for yourself sweetheart,” T’chev Tia declares, as he reaches across the table to swipe a taste of the Captain’s meal. “I’m still all sorts o pissed ‘bout Alphie’s Braves. Cap had to cart me to Coerthas with half me guts spillin’ out on the chocobo.”

“If you had just told us where you had run off to, you wouldn’t have gotten shanked in the first place!” the Captain grumbles irritably.

“I will never live that one down with you all, will I?” Alphinaud sighs into his plate.

“Nope!” the red-headed Randal Hooper says brightly. “Just like G’raha here is never going to live down having the absolute _worst_ timing in the star.”

“I have suitably paid for my errors as Alisaie’s fists can attest to, and our champion has forgiven me for the incident.” the equally red-headed Seeker says, a soft smile on his face.

“She’d forgive ya anything,” T’chev waves dismissively. “Cap hasn’t forgiven you fer it, and prolly never will.”

“Nearly got her killed - and more than once at that.” Loetstymm affirms irritably into his tankard. “Planned on it even, if I unnerstand the story right. Which to be truthful, the whole thing sounds ridiculous.”

“Well with how our friend explains things, I shudder to think about her version of events,” Alphinaud Leveilleur laughs. Moxi has become significantly more talkative over the time he’s known her. One would think that would make conversations and discussions easier, given that she was now actually voicing opinions instead of just nodding stoically. Unfortunately Moxi’s prior silence had been hiding a host of eccentricities and the Auri woman’s communication skills were - _lacking_ , to put it bluntly. Moxi Kahkol was not one to beat about the bush, and while she did not embellish or lie, her explanations had a tendency to lack a lot of critical details. Or provided far too many. 

“We got the gist of things,” Randal shrugs. “She didn’t want to talk about much of it. Called you and Urianger all _sorts_ of names. Self-sacrificing chocobo arsefeathers was a particularly memorable one.”

Alphinaud watches G’raha’s smile leave his face. A complex expression of grief and resignation taking its place. It is an expression he had worn often as the Crystal Exarch. With only his lips and chin visible from beneath the cowl, the expression had seemed to be one of steadfast resolve- the now extremely visible drooping ears make it one of weary defeat.

"There was no other way." The red-headed Miqo'te says quietly. "The Lightwardens could only be slain by one possessing the Blessing of Light. It had been tried before - with disastrous results. Mayhaps the Tower would have been able to contain the aether to some extent, but I could not hope to defeat them myself, not even with the backing of an entire city or two. It had to be her. "

"Yeah yeah, we know. The little lizard is special and you’d die for her." T'chev waves dismissively at the other Tia's words. "Thankfully your plan fell to pieces and you didn't, otherwise I'm certain we woulda had to kidnap Cid to find a way into the rift to kill you twice. More importantly, and the whole reason we invited Alphie and you to dinner in the first place. The hundred million gil question, as it were. What are your intentions with our little Kahkol?"

The hundred million gil question elicits a good deal of spluttering and spilt drinks at the Quills table and those surrounding them. 

"What happened to ' _let’s ease into that conversation_ ' huh?! What was that about - ' _we don't want to scare him off'_?!" Randal Hooper demands angrily, as he wipes at his mouth.

"You know very well the answer to that question T'chev." G'raha states quietly.

"Aye, but Cap and Randal don't know it and they won't believe it comin' from me. I’m _biased_ they say. My feelings on ya ‘ _skewed’_ by the Echo - which is completely _untrue_ . I mean it’s not like you had _me_ over a desk."

“Chev!” the Quills exclaim in concerted horror while G'raha's face turns a spectacular shade of red.

“Oh come off it Greenie. All of Mor Dhona knows they’re bangin’! Mox is many things but subtle ain’t one of them.” the Lominsan rogue declares with a dramatic wave of his hand, while Captain Fhrubryt sighs heavily. 

Alphinaud sighs as well. Never a dull moment with this lot, he thinks a touch fondly as he shoves a spoonful of meal into his mouth. He could excuse his rapidly reddening face with the heat of the food. While Alphinaud was not ignorant towards the physical nature of G'raha's relationship with the Warrior of Light, prolonged exposure to T'chev Tia's particular brand of shamelessness has Alphinaud worried he was going to hear things about his compatriots that he would rather not.

He focuses instead on pretending not to notice, Hooper not-so-sneakily piling another dollop of mashed popotoes onto his plate. 

The Ishgardian born paladin has been quite vocal about his concern over his and Alisaie's height and that close proximity with the Warrior of Light and her frankly _terrible_ eating habits has stunted their growth.

"I’ve asked her to marry me." 

Alphinaud Leveilleur's present mouthful promptly goes flying across the table, as do multiple plates and glasses throughout the Seventh Heaven, filling the incredibly conspicuous moment of silence G’raha Tia’s statement caused. One of the waitresses straight up drops her tray, whips her head around and stares, all pretenses of the entire tavern _not_ eavesdropping on them forgotten. 

Not that any at the corner table have noticed that they are the absolute centre of attention.

"Beg pardon?! When did _that_ happen?" Alphinaud splutters to which G'raha pushes his cup towards him, the man’s tail swishing nervously behind him under the combined stares of the Quills and the entirety of the Seventh Heaven.

“It was a private moment, and then circumstance prevented us from announcing anything.” the red-headed Miqo’te laughs lightly, ears flickering nervously.

“She said yes, I take it?” 

“Mmm,” G’raha answers with a gentle, nervous smile and the soft murmurs of conversation that had permeated the Seventh Heaven rises to a roar.

A part of Alphinaud is somewhat hurt that Moxi had not told him - after everything they had been through together, he had thought she would consider him a suitable confidant. 

Though depending on the timing of G'raha's proposal, she may not have had an opportunity to share the news with anyone. Hazarding a guess, the Miqo'te had likely proposed to the Scions' Champion upon waking from the Tower and the whirlwind of events that followed had given her little opportunity for respite, much less a chance to sit down and talk with the rest of the Scions.

Alisaie was certainly going to make a very sincere effort to throttle G’raha the second she heard though.

"Ha! I win! You owe me twenty thousand gil T'chev!" Hooper whoops.

"The hells I do!" The blond Miqo'te shouts back, butter knife brandished threateningly in the Midlander's direction. "They ain't married yet! The wager still stands!"

"Do I want to know?" Alphinaud asks Mitsutake - the most reasonable one out of the lot as he eyes the two, more senior crew members argue over the terms of their likely highly questionable bet.

"Probably not. Do you want to know anyway?" 

Alphinaud considers it for a moment.

"No. No I don't."

The table falls into the traditional bickering of adventurer companies, with jokes, laughter and one or two threats of bodily harm, but the conversation topics remain light as Alphinaud and G'raha politely inquire towards the Quills recent contracts and employment.

The stalemate at Ghimlyt has led to a shortage of military presence in the citystate-beastmen conflict, which has given many adventurer companies a boost to their coffers. 

"It sounds nice, but if some of those blasted fools continue the way they're going, even the sylphs of Little Solace are going to get fed up with us Spoken." Hooper grumbles. "Baderon's been trying to give the sproutlings an education on not paintin' all beastmen with the same brush, but you can't Esuna stupid."

G'raha looks a little startled by the statement and Alphinaud is about to ask what the issue was when he recalls that the Exarch had spent a century in Norvrandt, where the classification of beastmen and Spoken did not really exist. In the wake of the Flood, prejudice had to take a backseat to survival. 

"Let's not talk politics, y'know that shite gives me headaches," Loetstymm Fhrubryt grumbles, before locking eyes with G'raha.

"You say you an' Kahkol are engaged, but I don't see a ring. "

"Yesui didn't want one," G'raha sighs. "And I couldn't exactly follow my own tribe's way. I had to improvise."

“So that earring then.”

“Yes,” G’raha laughs ruefully. “While the earring does satisfy the traditional Norvrandt custom of something old and something blue, I plan to make her another, more appropriate betrothal gift. I’m afraid my time away has made me unfamiliar with current trends. I will confess to ignorance towards the traditions and ways of the Azim Steppe and I was hoping that you would be amenable to help - I want to do things properly for her.” he smiles, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

Something must show on Alphinaud's face as T'chev Tia bursts into raucous laughter once more. 

An earring that was old and blue. Perchance a _blue, crystal_ earring. Moxi had been wearing that particular piece of jewelry for _months_ on the First.

"You're usually quicker in the gossip circles Leveilleur." the blond Miqo'te guffaws. 

"Besides one incident, I did not have to worry much about the Crystarium rumour mill as I did the Ishgardian one." Alphinaud answers as his mind races. 

His opinion of the Exarch has ever been a mostly respectful one. His impression of the Exarch when he had been summoned to the First was that of a dedicated and crafty man. His every word and gesture carefully calculated, planned meticulously to the smallest detail, the costs and consequences weighed and measured to the _ilm._ Apparently the Exarch had allowed himself to cast off more than the cowl after their return from the Tempest and had thrown himself back into being the reckless and daring youth of Krile's stories. 

Alphinaud wants to scold the man for being so _irresponsible_. To propose marriage to Moxi - with his fate uncertain and the Tower slowly eating away at his body - it spoke poorly on G’raha’s impulse control to say the least. Had the transfer of his soul and memories not succeeded, Moxi would have been absolutely devastated, to the point that Alphinaud was certain that she might not ever recover. Haurchefant’s death had broken her heart - G’raha’s would have obliterated it.

He remembers how she had cried at the top of the Crystal Tower, in front of all that remained of the Exarch - his soul clutched tightly to her breast. 

The inheritor of Allag seems to read Alphinaud’s expression and speaks.

“I will admit that when I asked her, it was an impulsive and selfish decision -”

“As was her acceptance.” Mitsutake throws in, mouth half-full with food.

"Well I wouldn't say-" G'raha rallies onward, only to be interrupted by Hooper.

“Kahkol isn’t exactly known for making cool-headed and well thought out decisions. I swear she’s two different people on and off the battlefield.” the Ishgardian points at G’raha firmly with his fork. “She’s in love with you. Been in love with you for _years_ if T’chev tells it true. So don’t fuck this up old man.”

“I _always_ speak the truth!” T’chev Tia lies, his face the very picture of injured innocence, to which the blond Miqo’te is assailed on all sides by accusations and name-calling by his friends. 

“If we’re talkin’ tall tales, Mitsu is by far the more prolific liar!” the former pirate declares, throwing his lover under the chocobo cart in an attempt to stave off further berating.

“He’s a _bard_ ! He’s _supposed_ to fib!” Loetstymm slams his tankard on the table.

“I am a _storyteller._ I tell stories and I _embellish_ them. I am not ‘fibbing’!” the Raen glares angrily at both his boyfriend and the Captain.

"You're a shite storyteller Mitsu. Can't even sit through a single one o' the Captain's bawdy jokes without blushin' like a maid!" 

"I should hope so! You Eorzeans are _shameless_ , and it is contagious! Kahkol hasn't done any needlework around you Scions has she?" Mitsu asks very concernedly to Alphinaud and G'raha.

Alphinaud raises a quizzical eyebrow at that. Moxi had indeed knit and sewn a good deal during their time in Ishgard - concerned as she was about the cold, her immense collection of blankets and scarves rapidly depleted as she bestowed them on residents of both House Fortemps and the Brume.

"Well yes. What do you mean?" Alphinaud starts though G'raha's face has gone near as red as his hair.

"Mitsu, the little lizard is on her best behaviour round Alphie and Alisaie," T'chev says in a loud stage whisper. "She don't craft in her skivvies round the children."

“I - _what_?!” Alphinaud asks, completely baffled by this particular revelation.

“Tis… tis an odd habit of hers that has endured over the years,” G’raha laughs nervously, which clearly piques T’chev’s interest based on the way his eyes light up and his ears and tail stand at attention.

“Oh ho!” he grins, and the expectant stares and Mitsutake Yumishi's pleading eyes have G'raha explaining.

“It was early in our acquaintance, when we were sharing a tent in Mor Dhona. I happened to- “

“You _what_?!”

Captain Loetstymm Fhrubryt's face is dark with anger as he slams his tankard onto the table. Alphinaud swears he feels the entire tavern shake with the man's fury.

"You're about five years too late to be outraged 'bout that Greenie." The rest of the man’s crew does not so much as bat an eyelash at the enormous Roegadyn’s temper. 

"Whose bloody idea was it to let a young man and woman share -" the Roegadyn tries again to voice his outrage, only for his childhood friend to wave it away.

"Over and done with Greenie. Twelve you’re such an _old man_. Nothing ever happened. Idiots didn't know they liked eachother at that point." T’chev groans, though a mischievous glint sparks to life in the former pirate's eyes. “Though I’m guessin’ Mox made things rough for ya those nights at the Find?” 

A particularly knowing grin has taken over the blond Miqo’te’s face and Alphinaud feels a pang of sympathy for G’raha. He has been the subject of T’chev Tia’s teasing. It’s not a particularly comfortable role to be in.

"W-Well," G'raha stammers and tries to hide his reddening face in his ale tankard. "I will admit that I was attracted to Yesui during that time. But I swear on the Crystarium and all of Norvrandt that nothing untoward happened."

" _Really_ ?" Hooper exclaims incredulously. "I mean, if she was doing her craftin' she'd be pretty damn close to _naked_. You sure everythin’ below the belt is workin’ for you G’raha?”

Alphinaud's brain stops. 

"Ignore him," Yumishi says, patting Alphinaud gently on the shoulder, while trying to smile reassuringly at G'raha who seems to have frozen. "Deviants. The lot of them."

"Says the only heretic amongst us!" Hooper retorts.

"I'd never even _heard_ of your Twelve before I came to Eorzea! And if I understand Kahkol's story right, the only one worth worshipping might be Azeyma!" Yumishi is suddenly shouting, as he slams his fists on the table, the topic apparently a sore subject for the Raen man. 

"Damn straight!" T'chev crows, banging on the table in solidarity.

"Now hold on just a minute there lizardbreath!" Hooper exclaims. “So the Twelve might have been some gaggle of Ancient politickers, but I won’t have you disparagin’ the Fury!”

A war in miniature erupts over the apple pie as one ridiculously tall Au Ra fights with fork against a Hyur of middling height's spoon. The rules of engagement unclear, but apparently the winner of this theological death match would be whosoever managed to claim the larger portion of pie.

Alphinaud has had years to give up on understanding this particular group of adventurers.

Captain Fhrubryt pays no mind to the religious debate his crew is engaged in. His attention and focus is solely on G'raha, who has completely drained his tankard in a mostly futile effort to erase the red in his cheeks. 

"So what exactly do you like about her?"

"I'm sorry?" 

“Mox is a lovely girl and all, but she’s not exactly -” he waves his hands in a vague manner. Any attempt to describe Moxi Kahkol in words would be woefully inadequate to encompass all of her eccentricities. 

“I beg your pardon?!” G'raha demands, ears twitching and fur bristling at the mere suggestion of an insult towards his fiancee.

"Why her? She's Au Ra. Seeker men are pretty particular about bloodlines and heirs, and from my understanding yours is pretty important to you." Loetstymm Fhrubryt speaks calmly, though there's an edge to his voice that raises the hairs on the back of Alphinaud's neck. 

"The way those two go at it, it's only a matter of time!" 

"Shut up Chev and keep an eye on your own lizard!" The Captain of the Quills growls.

G'raha is quiet for a long moment before he looks straight into the Roegadyn's eyes.

"All I want - all I have _ever_ wanted for the past one hundred years, was for her to live. That she wants me in her life - that she agreed to marry me is a privilege and blessing that I'm not sure I deserve. If she wants children, I would be honoured to be their father, and if she does not and I am the last of the Allagan royal line, then so be it."

"You don't deserve her." Loetetymn declares bluntly. "These _idiots_ think that you bein' okay dyin' for her is all fine and dandy, but I ain't." The Sea Wolf glares at the red-eyes Miqo'te with something akin to rage. "You're the first damn thing she's _wanted_ for herself in maybe her entire bleedin' life." 

"I assure you Captain, that I am well aware -”

“You’re _not_ .” Loetstymm Fhrubryt interrupts him firmly. “Dyin’ for love sounds romantic at all, but you break her heart again, she ain’t recoverin’ from it. I dunno how much she’s told you, but Haurchefant’s death _broke_ her. Put on a good show of having things together, but the grief damn near killed her. Literally. We had to pay off the Resistance for the chocobos it ate.”

Alphinaud's head snaps towards the Captain at that proclamation, while the other adventurers either groan or shudder at the memory. 

"Hungry little bastard he was," Randal grumbles irritably, before glancing towards Alphinaud. "Ask the lizard about it if you want the details. Still sounds made up to be truthful, but Sid can't tell a story to save his life."

G'raha's expression remains calm.

"You speak of Fray and Myste. Yesui has spoken of them."

Alphinaud is reminded once more that Moxi has a varied and colourful life outside of the Scions of the Seventh Dawn. Some names the Quills bring up he recognizes, others he doesn't - and the names he does know are few and far between. Alisaie was the one who kept up-to-date with Moxi's mind-bogglingly expansive network. Alphinaud was often stuck as a captive audience to his sister's rants and complaints towards the Warrior of Light’s social schedule and her ridiculous propensity for getting involved with the oddest of people.

G'raha's knowledge of these individuals seems to placate the Captain somewhat, but his sour expression remains.

"You don't deserve her," the Captain repeats. "But she picked you, so my word don't count for nothin'. I think marrying you is a _bone headed, dumb ass_ idea, but as my idiots keep tellin' me, she can make her own stupid decisions. So we'll be watchin' you G'raha Tia."

An awkward silence settles between the veteran Roegadyn adventurer and the newest Scion of the Seventh Dawn as they glare at one another.

“And if you two don’t work out, the Qerel khan did offer thirty horses and fifty goats for her to marry his daughter,” T’chev tosses this information onto the table, breaking the tension as easily as a dagger through butter. “Sela’s the only one with money on that one.”

“WHAT?!” 

It is at times like these that Alphinaud strongly wishes that the Quills were less uptight about lawbreaking when it came to alcohol. He thinks he could use a drink. Or several.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There ends up being no clear-cut winner between Randal and Mitsu on which of the Twelve is superior, because Sela, Cece and Mally return to the Seventh Heaven with one of the Warrior of Light's mounts in tow with demands for the Captain to _fix this problem now. for the love of the Twelve. The Ishgardians hate us. They gave this thing to her from a scratch card and she loves it. She's already named it and everything._  
>  It's the dhalmel mount.  
> She named it Frederick.

**Author's Note:**

> I have no self control and instead of writing the Stormblood section of Mightier than A Sword, I wrote a bunch of post-Shadowbringers stuff.
> 
> If you enjoyed this and want to find similar-minded authors to scream with about upcoming patches and writing, come join[ the bookclub](https://discord.gg/enabling-debauched-xivfic)


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